Author
Topic: Dear Sophisticaton (Read 5049 times)

It’s been a long time, and I’m sorry to say, but I’m still not sure we can be friends. I saw you the other day, you know. You were beautiful; all sleek lines, right words, perfect poise. I wanted to say something to you, but we both know it wouldn’t have worked out. I’m still just a kid, Sophistication, don’t you get it? I’m even more of a slut now, more of a fuck up than I was last time we met. I’m busy getting high every day, telling lies every day, and I just can’t imagine you could say the same. But you know that already.

I should tell you, we like to make fun of you, Sophistication. We dress up and play pretty and act like you, sometimes, for the fun of the game. We put on our serious faces with our serious high heels and make serious small talk, just like you do. Oh, we’re not as good as you, of course. But I hardly think that matters now. Do you?

I’m expected to make nice with you, Sophistication, but I’m not sure I’m ready yet.

I should tell you, we like to make fun of you, Sophistication. We dress up and play pretty and act like you, sometimes, for the fun of the game. We put on our serious faces with our serious high heels and make serious small talk, just like you do. Oh, we’re not as good as you, of course. But I hardly think that matters now. Do you?

"If I owned Goodwill, no charity worker would feel safe. I would sit in my office behind a massive pile of cocaine, racking my pistol's slide every time the cleaning lady came near. Auditors, I'd just shoot."

2 cent warning, but sophistication isn't necessarily doing things for sophistication's sake, it's doing thing the stuff you like to do RIGHT.

Like wearing a kilt! I kid, honestly. Sophistication isn't something I worry about often. I wrote a Dear Sophistication letter five or so years ago (in AP American Studies--not really sure how that connects) that I recently rediscovered, and this was my response to the original letter. I'd post that, but.. well, you remember being an angsty 17 year old, I'm sure.

2 cent warning, but sophistication isn't necessarily doing things for sophistication's sake, it's doing thing the stuff you like to do RIGHT.

Like wearing a kilt! I kid, honestly. Sophistication isn't something I worry about often. I wrote a Dear Sophistication letter five or so years ago (in AP American Studies--not really sure how that connects) that I recently rediscovered, and this was my response to the original letter. I'd post that, but.. well, you remember being an angsty 17 year old, I'm sure.

Anyhow, thanks.

The greater part of my contributions here are those of my angsty 17 year old self.

2 cent warning, but sophistication isn't necessarily doing things for sophistication's sake, it's doing thing the stuff you like to do RIGHT.

Like wearing a kilt! I kid, honestly. Sophistication isn't something I worry about often. I wrote a Dear Sophistication letter five or so years ago (in AP American Studies--not really sure how that connects) that I recently rediscovered, and this was my response to the original letter. I'd post that, but.. well, you remember being an angsty 17 year old, I'm sure.

Anyhow, thanks.

Also in reply to Cainad, my angsty 17 year old self wrote the rant against the evils of Oatmeal cookies, which I still like better than 60% of the rest of my writings. (Will post if I find)

From reading the rant, I got a strong idea of "Screw being perfect, I'll just be.", which works! Emulating what you want to be does not make you what you want to be, since whatever brought that into being was a process in itself.

(Wearing a kilt doesn't make this either , I jsut makes you the same spag, panceless)

Cram's rant on arrete really comes to mind too, lot of the same sense of character coming out of accepting you're imperfect, and having fun with that.